CHAPTER XVI
MY DANGEROUS POSITION
"Well, Harleston," said I, after Michael had left us, "here is the position in which I now find myself placed. Methinks thou wilt agree with me when I say that my prospects are anything but of the brightness of the sun.
"The Queen hath fled from her home and hath taken refuge in a Sanctuary for reason of her fear of Gloucester. The young King, her son, is in the power of the man from whom she hath fled. Catesby, who is evidently in the service of Richard, hath good reason for his belief that I warned the Queen and thus have been the cause of her taking refuge. Richard hath some scheme in hand, the object of which we know not. The death of Rivers, Grey and Vaughan, is evidently decided upon merely because they are friends to the Queen. Gloucester is bent on gaining possession of the King's little brother, for what purpose we know not. What chance then have I of escaping the tusks of the boar?" asked I, when I had finished this somewhat gloomy list of facts.
"My dear friend," replied Harleston, "however strange it may sound, I must say methinks thou hast naught to fear from Catesby's telling to Richard the part thou hast played in connection with the Queen's flight."
"Why?" I asked in surprise.
"For this reason," replied my friend, "Catesby was evidently instructed to prevent any messages from reaching the Queen, else why should he so question Michael, and, when speaking to himself, say that Richard would give him the devil when he should learn of the Queen's flight?"
"Well?" I asked, "and what hath that to do with removing the danger from me?"
"This," replied my friend in his quiet yet most impressive manner. "Thinkest thou that Catesby would dare to tell Gloucester that he did permit a common soldier to carry a message unto the Queen, when he should have prevented it? No," said he answering his own question, "it is more likely that he would attribute the warning to Dorset, over whom he could have no control, and therefore could not be blamed for allowing him to warn the Queen."
"That may be so," I cried. "And if it be, why then I still may wear my head; for if Catesby doth tell Richard I feel a tickling in the back of my neck which tells me it then must needs be severed."
"However," said Harleston, "thou art not by any means out of danger. Remember this," he continued; "some one must have warned Dorset. Catesby may suggest that thou wert the man which sent the news to him."
"Then the danger is as great as ever!" I cried in disappointment. "Come, come, Harleston, thou art becoming as bad as Michael, with thy surprises and disappointments. Why didst thou raise my hopes only to dash them again to earth and crush them like an egg?" This I said with a forced smile; for I tried to accept the inevitable with a philosophy that I was far from feeling.
"No," said my friend, with a grave face, "I think thy danger is not great; for though Catesby may cause Richard to suspect thee of being the cause of the Queen's flight, he cannot prove it without showing neglect of duty on his part."
"Thou art right, my friend," said I, as I grasped his hand and shook it warmly. "Truly, I know not what I could do without thine advice.
"But tell me this," I said, as I remembered the incident in the Council room. "What did Catesby whisper to Lord Hastings that made the Chancellor frown on us?"
"Nay, nay, my friend," said Frederick, laughing, "thou must not think that I can read the thoughts of people." Then he added more seriously:—"'Tis like he did but tell Lord William that he suspected thee of being connected with Dorset in the warning of the Queen."
"Yes, that must have been it. How clear thou dost make everything, Harleston. I would that I could look on life as calmly, and think more ere I act. Now who but a prophet could have foreseen any danger in informing the Queen of her friends' arrest: yet," I added, "I thank God for having permitted me to succeed in doing it, even though I lose my head for having done it."
"Thou must not give me credit for having foreseen any danger in sending a message by the hand of a servant; for Heaven knows I had no idea that their plan was so complete as to take precautions to prevent the Queen from being warned."
"Still, thou didst think it might be dangerous for me to come myself to Westminster; therefore, something must have told thee that they did not wish the Queen to know of her brother's and her son's arrest."
"Yes," he replied, "but thou dost give me credit that belongs not to me. The only danger I foresaw was the affront it might give Gloucester. I did not for one moment think that they would dare to intercept a message to the Queen."
"Well, Frederick," said I, "thou seest now that they dare do anything. When Richard even threatens to take the little Duke from his Mother, by force, and that when they are in the Sanctuary, which has ever been considered too holy for force to be used upon it, we need not be surprised at any move his Highness makes. Harleston, thy prophecy is being fulfilled."
"When did I make a prophecy?" asked my friend.
"Dost thou not remember when first we met, and thou didst say that Richard, if he were ever made Protector, would be revenged upon those who did oppose him?"
"Ah, yes, I do remember me; but since that night my mind and body have been so occupied that I have not noticed my prediction reaching its fulfilment. However," he continued, "but part of it, and that the minor one, is now being played. If this part lasts not too long we shall live to see the last and bloodiest of the prophecy. Do but, look back over the history of our race and thou shalt see, wherever a man of Richard's character—if ever such there has been—came into a position of power he shone out with the brilliancy of a star. But the star they all resembled was a falling one, and left a trail of blood behind it, as it tumbled from its height."